#its really good even if its only an outline

[maiamore]

LUCKY YOU

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader - No Outbreak

Rating: 18+ | W/C: 2.7k

Summary: Joel tries to read his book instead of giving his wife attention on his honeymoon.

Or, Joel fucks his wife at the beach.

Tags: husband!joel, public indecency, sex on the beach, established relationship, outdoor sex, p in v sex, accidental creampie,honeymoon vibes,able bodied reader, implied age gap, slight coercing(?) reader just wants her husband to fuck her on her honeymoon smfh, use of pet names, pussy pronouns, one use of the word daddy A/N: i don't even have to explain what conjured this, beach pedro y'all, i enjoyed writing this SO MUCH

Edit: this song, Image - Magdalena Bay suits this fic perfectly in my head arghh MASTERLIST

It wasn’t easy getting a man like Joel Miller to relax. 

Every goddamn chance he got, he’d find a way to keep busy–mind or body. Fixing the creaky cabinet door, patching up the leaky air-conditioning unit that the landlord swore they'd call someone for. Joel thrived on activity, claiming it "kept the bad thoughts away." Whatever those bad thoughts were, you weren’t sure, but you suspected they’d always be lurking at the edges.

Even now, with the tropical sun bathing both of you in its’ lazy warmth and the lull of crystal blue waves breaking the shore, Joel had insisted on unwinding by reading, of all things. 

Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead. Given, it was a good read, you’d insist for him to give it a try. And you’d enjoyed it–a book that had you question societal norms and the ethical implications of how humanity treated animals and the environment through the eyes of Janina Duszejko.

Could you really be upset at your husband keeping his mind occupied with a good book? 

Oh, you could. And you would. Considering this was your honeymoon.

Three blissful, chaotic years of marriage had finally led you both here. A getaway, tucked in a small Caribbean resort. You both managed to rub every damned spare penny together and finally found yourselves living a much needed pleasure. 

You spent your mornings indulging in piña coladas and your afternoons barefoot on powder soft sand, cool foam kissing your ankles. Taking in the salty ocean air.

To Joel’s credit, you were finally getting to see a side of him you weren’t able to in your entirety of knowing him. 

The deep creases of his brow had disappeared, replaced by something softer, easier. The only lines on his face now were the crows feet that appeared in his relaxed laughter. Work and responsibility kept him on his feet back in Austin. But here? With Tommy stepping up to manage Miller’s Construction, Joel had let himself breathe.

A man unburdened. Lord knows he’d deserved it. Though it was a double edged sword.

You’d never found your husband sexier than ever in his relaxed state and your libido was through the fucking roof.

If his hand wasn’t resting on the small of your back, it was tangled in yours, his thumb brushing lazy circles into your palm. And when it wasn’t there? It was on your thigh beneath the dinner table, his fingers tracing the outline of your knee absentmindedly.

You found yourself stealing glances at him.

In complete awe at the man who could quite literally wrestle a washing machine up three flights of stairs without breaking a sweat–look so utterly peaceful, sprawled on the sun lounger. Sand clinging to his calves and a vibrant blue book spread open within his thumb and forefingers. 

Good fucking god. His hands.

Your palm crinkled around the sweet peach seltzer that you pulled from the mini cooler, desperate to quench the growing thirst. The fizz popped against your lips as Joel glanced up from his book, as Joel glances up from his book, offering you a smile with the soft shadow you brought with you. An angel you were, he thought. 

He adjusted just enough to plant a kiss on your cheek, his scruff tickling your skin. A grin spread across your face and you leaned in to steal a proper kiss, only for him to swerve to give the book his attention.

“Enjoying your honeymoon with the book?” You snark, flopping onto the soft white cushion beside him. Unpacking the essentials you’d lugged out here.

“Don’t be dramatic, darlin’. S’a good book.” He remarks, voice slow and warm, like honey dripping from its dipper. He doesn’t lift his gaze to look at you. His palm comes up to knead around your waist in a half assed attempt to acknowledge your existence.

You huffed, sinking into the lounger. The deep blues of your bikini catching in the sunlight. Joel’s gaze flicked up for a moment and you caught the way his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, like he was trying to play it cool. 

He snorted suddenly. “You tryin’ to be the book, hopin’ I’ll look atcha’ more?”

You paused, squinting at him before glancing down at your bikini and then the book cover. Damn it. They were the same shade of blue. A groan left you as you grabbed the sunscreen and tossed it his way.

“Don’t start. It’s a coincidence, Miller.”

He catches the bottle one handed, setting his book aside. You notice him eyeing you again as you turn to present your back. This surely would rile him up just a little and finally get his attention to it, wouldn’t it?

The untied straps of your bikini dangled and you give him a pointed look over your shoulder.

“Well?”

“A’right, Mrs Miller. C’mere.”

He muttered a curse underneath his breath, squeezing a dollop of sunscreen into his palm. He worked the lotion over your shoulders and down your back, his calloused hands moving slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second. The curve of your waist–down to the dip of your spine, it was all too much.

“You sure this ain’t part of your plan?” he begins, his voice low, a little strained now.

“What plan?” you tossed over your shoulder, feigning innocence.

“Mmhmm. You’re real sneaky, y’know that?”

You smirked, closing your eyes as his hands smoothed over your skin. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He lets out a frustrated little breath, planting a chaste kiss on the back of your shoulder like it might ground him. His hands lingered for just a second too long on the gentle curve of your waist before he pulls away, clearing his throat and settling back into his lounger.

Joel was still a red-blooded man. How the hell was he supposed to keep his head straight when his wife looked like that, all soft and pretty, perched right there like she didn’t know the power she had over him?

Without another word, Joel busies himself with fiddling the pages. Trying real hard to convince himself he hadn’t just lost that round. But the way his thumb taps restless against the edge of the book gave him away.

You knew going into this relationship that being a man almost a decade older than you would entail a quieter life. 

Joel’s age had never been an issue. Not when he could still work circles around men half his years and definitely not in bed. No, he had no need for the blue pill, thank you very much. But times like this? Times when you’d laid yourself out like a fucking michelin star dessert and he couldn’t be bothered to take so much as a bite? 

That was fucked.

You lift your shades to perch on your head, glancing around the beach. It was almost empty, just a few scattered umbrellas and the rhythmic sound of waves breaking against the shore. Yet here he was, sunk deep into his book. The golden rays danced along his tanned skin, kissing the flecks of gray in his beard like he was a goddamn painting.

Your teeth catches your bottom lips before you finally decide to make a move. With a casual shift, you scooted snug next to him, thigh hooking around his underneath your paisley blue and white blanket. Your fingers drift to rest over his, twisting the cool silver of his wedding band.

Joel doesn’t look up right away but he gives a soft grunt of acknowledgement. Tugging you closer with a firm hand on your waist. He leans in to press a kiss just below your ear, the scrape of his beard sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

“Somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart?” he murmurs.

“Oh, not much,” you replied, glancing pointedly at his book. “Just wondering if it’s one of those magic books from Harry Potter that sprouts new pages.”

He smirks, finally tilting his head to look at you, eyes full of that slow, teasing mischief. “Maybe it’s ‘cause someone keeps tryin’ to distract me.”

You gasped, hand flying to your chest like you were scandalized. “Me? I’d never.”

“Uh huh,” he hums, clearly unconvinced.

You swat at his arm playfully but he catches your wrist, pulling you in for a deep kiss. It wasn't a chaste one this time. His lips locked with yours, slow, attentive. The taste of piña colada lingered on his tongue, mingling with the faint tang of sea salt from his earlier dip in the ocean. Your hands drift to the strings of his red swimsuit, sliding lower down the middle. 

That makes him pull away. Looking at you half-lidded, though he doesn’t quite move your hand. 

“You tryin’ to get us arrested, baby girl?”

“There’s no one around, Joel.” 

You offer as you lean in to kiss him again. You feel him hesitate, rightfully so. Maybe it was the drinks you’d pumped into your systems earlier, but Joel doesn’t push you away this time. His rough palm comes to wrap around the back of your neck, drawing the sweetness of peaches from the seltzer from your tongue into his. 

“Gotta make it quick, then.” He murmurs into your lips as you feel him guide you onto his lap. To your delight, your husband was already rock fucking hard for you. 

He lets out a drawn out sigh as you rock your hips onto his erection, his palm steady behind you to encourage your movements. He couldn’t have been any harder now. “Lookin’ like fuckin’ sin.” His thumb swipes up to the gusset of your bikini bottoms. 

“What’re you trying to do t’me?” 

You smile against his lips. “Finally noticing your poor neglected wife?” You flip your hair to the other side of your shoulders to nip at his ear lobe. He tenses at that, grabbing your jaw with a rough hold. 

“Had to, baby. Else we’d be spendin’ this entire vacation with my cock stuffed in this needy fuckin’ pussy.” 

You shudder at the want in his voice. You attempt to reply but a thumb slips into your parted lips, two fingers coaxing the drool out. 

You let out a soft uunff as Joel pulls out his fingers with a string of your saliva following. “Gross. Supergoop tastes like shit.” 

“Yeah well, didn’t give me much time to get all cleaned up for you now did ya?”

He grins at your little complaints about the taste of sunscreen on his fingers. You were quickly shut up by the sensation of his split slick fingers nudging into your pussy. 

You groan out. Hips jumping as he probes into you gently. You catch the flutter of your beach blanket in your peripheral, watching as Joel covers both of you–as well as it could've from the bottom down. 

“Don’t think that’s gonna do shi—hhhhiitt.” Your words slurrs at Joel’s steadily thrusts into your pussy. Your hands come to rest on his shoulders. “God. Baby that’s so—…so good..” You manage, words barely a whisper.

Joel leans in to pepper kisses up your jaw. “I know. Practically suckin’ my fingers in.” He mumbles against your neck, fingers squelching deeper into your walls, caressing it in a repeated motion. His thumb swipes against your throbbing clit simultaneously. 

“So fuckin’ warm n’ soft. She’s gonna milk my cock dry.” He mutters, more so to himself. 

A sharp shiver creeps down your spine. “J-Joel—…i’mclose—…shit i’msosoclose—“ You mutter incoherently. Your hips rising a little to Joel’s persistent finger-fucking. 

He hums against your shoulder. Other hand, keeping your hips down firm, making sure you felt the full bearing of his two fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy. “Give it t’me.”

Your eyes roll back in pure fucking ecstasy within a matter of seconds. Hips attempting to squirm away from Joel’s fingers. He kisses your cheeks softly. 

“Good fucking girl.”

You let out a fucked out giggle. Suckling at his jaw and down his neck. Joel doesn’t give you much of a cool down, evident in the way he’d already been sliding his pre-cum soaked cock out of his swim trunks, nudging the tip against your sticky folds.

His thumb pushes aside the gusset of your bikini bottoms further, watching your slick bubble around the soaked fabric. 

“Lookit’, all ready to fuckin’ go.” He grins. With a quick glance around to check for the soul of another, he fully sheathes himself into you. 

He groans out and earns a pathetic whimper from you at the motion. Joel tips his head back against the lounger. Almost seizing up at how your tight pussy strangles his cock. 

“Oh, god!” 

“Ain’t god, sugar. All me.” 

He chuckles at the way you shoot him a warning look, though it held no bite. Joel wraps his arm around your hips to piston himself into your pussy. 

The sounds of your cunt squelching as you slam down onto his pelvis spurs you on even further as you ride him. Joel looks up. Letting out a sssst as though he’d been burned at the sight of your tits bouncing before him like a goddamned porn star. 

“Right outta Hustler issue cover, baby girl.” 

“Lucky you.” You laugh a little. Head tipped back to keep up your momentum, rocking your hips to his periodic grinds. You wince as your hair sticks to the back of your shoulders uncomfortably. The prick of overstimulation long gone at the glint of Joel’s gaze on you. 

You feel the strings at the back of your bikini unravel at Joel’s gentle tug, allowing your bikini top to shift just enough for your tits to spill out. 

Joel gathers your hair loosely off your shoulders. Driving headfirst to pop a tit into his mouth. The grumble he emits against your chest makes you giggle, the scruffiness distracting you from your discomfort. 

“Ahhh shit!” You whine out. His hips stutter relentlessly into you as you arch deeper to rest your full body weight onto him. Letting him do the work as he lazily thrusts into you. 

“Aww sweetheart, tired already? Lettin’ yer old man do all the damn work?” You offer a mere grunt at his taunt. “Shut up. You’re the one taking for-fucking ever.”

Joel doesn’t respond to you right away, but you get the memo when he pretty much begins to thrust into you like a man unhinged. 

The grip around the back of your hair turns meaner when he tugs you to look at him. Deep brown eyes pooling in admiration and sheer fucking need. 

“Look at me.” He commands. The way he jackhammers into your pussy being the only constant. “Look at me when I fuckin’ cum in this pussy.”

Your gaze flickers in slight surprise, soft gasps turning into moans when he thumbs your clit. “W-Wait. Joel—I-I can’t.” You manage when the sensation builds in you again. 

He adjusts his hold onto your hair in a pleasant grip. Making sure you looked at him while he fucked you hard and fast. 

“Yeah y’can.” He grunts into your ears, fucking you deeper in shorter bursts now. Joel could feel his balls steadily tensing up. 

“Give daddy nother’ one n’ I’ll consider fuckin’ this come deep into ya.” 

You grit your teeth in focus, desperate to give him what he wanted. If you couldn’t come with just his fat cock poking deep into you, you’d come at the way he was looking at you. Brows knit in focus, lips twitched in an attempt to not come. 

You finally falter, nails digging into his shoulder as your gaze flashes white and orange. Squeezing around his cock. Joel shudders at the sensation. 

“Shit, baby, I’m gonna—” 

You snap your gaze up when you hear a shuffle from behind the parasols. It doesn’t register in your head how you managed to grab the yellow and white and yellow tube. 

Joel seems to catch your shock, but he isn’t able to stop his cum from spurting deep into your cunt the same time you squirt an obscene amount of sunscreen into his chest. 

His hand instinctively comes up to adjust your bikini top, more so to make sure he isn’t letting his wife flash her yabbos out to other people. 

You stiffen up, palm smearing the sticky white lotion down Joel’s chest as one of the resort workers comes around with arms full of beach cleaning supplies. 

“Um…bonjou?”

[tiramisumin]

santa doesn’t know you like i do

⋆⁺₊❅. pairing: choi sumin x f!reader

⋆⁺₊❅. word count: 5.32k

⋆⁺₊❅. content: MATURE CONTENT AHEAD!!!, fluff, little bit of humor at the end, swearing, mutual pining, best friends/roommates to lovers, they’re so down bad for each other it’s crazy, xikers cameo, minjae has an unnamed gf, now into the juicy stuff- kissing… lots and lots of kissing, marking i think?, food play (its just some whipped cream yall), vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex gulp pls stay safe and do what ur comfy with bffs, they just want to be close and cheesy and cute okay </3

synopsis: the three times you want to confess your feelings for your best friend, and the one time he beats you to it.

୨ৎ i actually wrote this fic last december and it was originally for sunwoo from the boyz, but i never posted it and i decided to rewrite it for sumin cause i love a good christmas/season themed fic ♡ if u enjoyed this pls don’t forget to like n reblog that helps me so much :3

The first time you think of confessing your feelings to Choi Sumin, is also the first time you realize you have them in the first place. 

November had finally camouflaged into December, snow beginning to stick to the ground outside. It’s your favorite time of the year and Sumin knows this. Why wouldn’t he? As your best friend it only made sense that he knew you like the back of his hand. He knew how you liked your coffee in the morning and that you preferred sleeping on the right side of the bed, among other things.

This is why he suggests decorating your apartment together. 

You have ‘How The Grinch Stole Christmas’ playing in the background as you stand on a step stool, hanging garland on the perimeter of your living room ceiling. Sumin has his hands on your waist, assuring that he doesn’t let you fall. As funny as it would be, he’s also a big softie and couldn’t imagine letting you get hurt. 

“How does it look?” You ask, tilting your head back to see if you can get a better view. 

“Good. Professional almost— woah, be careful.  Don’t lean too much.” He tightens his grip on you. 

“You’re such a dad.” You roll your eyes playfully. Sumin scoffs, but doesn’t retort back. You adjust your stance on the step ladder, going onto your tippy toes to reach one of the lights on the corner strand. 

He tries to ignore how your hips shift beneath his fingertips, how easy it would be to slip them under your sweatshirt. His eyes squeeze shut as he attempts to will away the forbidden thoughts threatening to plague his mind. He’s so preoccupied with wiping his brain, that he doesn’t even realize you’re wobbling a little. 

Everything happens so quickly; the step stool giving out from your feet, your body falling backward, his arms flying out to catch you with his life. Sumin had never been so good with hand-eye coordination, and he thinks he deserves an award with how valiant his rescue was. 

He holds you firmly, examining your face for any indication you might’ve been injured. Instead he’s met with wide eyes and parted lips, his cheeks blushing at the proximity between the two of you. This is the moment that it hits you— the moment that your heart registers that it beats for Choi Sumin. Your gaze traces the outline of his plush lips, so tempted to lean in and press your own to them. 

You open your mouth to say something, when suddenly he’s standing you upright and stepping away from you. He wipes his clammy palms on your shoulders, steadying both you and himself. He thinks this is the universe’s way of punishing him for his earlier thoughts. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, laughing in the same manner. 

“Are you— um— are you okay?” Sumin fumbles over his words, eyes looking everywhere but at you. 

“‘M fine. Thanks for catching me.” You try your best to hide the disappointment in your tone. It’s not like he knew how you felt, so you couldn’t really blame him. Neither of you were at fault here. 

That didn’t mean you didn’t feel slightly discouraged though. If Sumin freaked out just by being so close to you, you couldn’t fathom how he’d react to hearing a confession. You clear your throat to, hopefully, cut through some of the tension in the air. 

“Should— should I order dinner?” Your fingers come up to tuck some hair behind your ear, anything to distract from the horrible atmosphere. You don’t like this one bit. 

“Uh… yeah! Yeah, that would be great. I’m okay with whatever you want.” He turns around and busies himself with the tree. You agreed on doing ornaments last, so he starts to slowly open up the branches. He hopes you can’t see the crimson shade spreading across the tips of his ears. 

“O-Okay… I’ll go do that then…” Your voice sounds far away from you. You avoid thinking about the pain blooming in the center of your chest, deep and sharp. You shouldn’t be upset. 

The second time you think of confessing your feelings to Sumin is halfway to Christmas. 

Your friend Minjae and his girlfriend invited the two of you to go look at the lights downtown. Out of your friend group, Minjae was the only one with a significant other. Because you and Sumin were so close, along with the fact that you were the only other girl, you were the best pairing option to join them. 

Going downtown to see the Christmas lights was something you looked forward to every year since you were little. It was a tradition you had with your family up until you got older. Then Sumin and yourself adopted it as your own. Thankfully there would be others around this time. You aren’t sure you could handle being alone with him without your heart giving out. Forget Valentine’s Day, Christmastime was truly the season of love. 

“I always love strolling around Han River and looking at the lights on the trees,” Minjae’s girlfriend says, nose resembling Rudolph’s due to the cold air. “I’m so glad that you like it too, Y/N!”

You smile at her and the way Minjae wraps her scarf just a bit more snugly as she talks. Their relationship was one you, dare you say, idolized. It’s not that they were the perfect couple, it’s that they loved each other so unconditionally. Minjae didn’t mind the teasing he got from the other boys for being ‘whipped’. They had a special connection that shined through even when they were just friends. It’s something you wished to experience yourself. 

The two walk a few feet ahead of you and Sumin, arms linked together. Part of you wanted to do the same with your best friend, to lean onto his shoulder and huddle closely for some semblance of warmth. Your hands sway side by side, just inches apart. If you extended your pinkie just slightly, it would touch his. Oh, how nice it would be to do such an intimate gesture.

You risk a sideways glance at Sumin, your heart skipping when you see how pretty he looks under the tree lights. The off-white bulbs reflect off of his cheeks and make his eyes sparkle, sending your emotions into a frenzy. 

The longer you walk next to him and the longer you gaze at him like a lovesick puppy, the more you realize how far into this infatuation you’ve gotten. What started as something small, triggered by something so menial, has grown exponentially. You’re honestly not sure that there was a chance of returning from this. 

When you put your friendship into perspective, you noticed a lot of red flags. For one, you did quite a few things that didn’t exactly scream platonic. Friends don’t cuddle during movie nights with all your other friends. Friends don’t think about each other in the forbidden ways you do at 2 AM. Friends don’t freak out over the potential end of said friendship.

It’s so painful. Standing here in the middle of December at Han River. You’ve long forgotten about your purpose for being here. Long forgotten about the pretty lights you’d been gushing about since you were a kid. All that matters to you is the boy in front of you. 

It hurts because of the uncertainty of what could come out of a confession. What if he hated you and wanted nothing to do with you? It was scary when you thought too hard about it. You’ve known Sumin through so many goods and bads, and shared many laughs. You know all of his favorite songs, and you’ve never missed a phone call. You want nothing more than to be the reason he smiles.

Santa, if you’re listening… Please make this Christmas one I won’t forget…

The next time you think of admitting your feelings for your best friend/roommate, is during your Friendsmas gathering on Christmas Eve. 

Usually, the event was held at Minjae’s house, since it was bigger. Him and his girlfriend loved hosting the circus that was your friend group. However, this year, you and Sumin volunteered your apartment for the festivities. It was your first year living together and you wanted it to be memorable. 

“The decorations are so cute!” Minjae’s girlfriend gushes, eyes wandering around the living room in awe at what you and Sumin managed to achieve. “The garland around the ceiling perimeter is such a nice touch. Did it take long?”

You think back to a couple weeks ago, when you were decorating. Things would’ve gone on without a hitch had you not fallen off the step ladder. You also wouldn’t be dealing with inner turmoil every time you looked at your roommate/best friend. You glance over at him, chatting it up with Minjae and Junmin, and your heart aches a little. “Not long at all…”

She purses her lips, taking your hand and dragging you off to the balcony. You give her a confused look, raising an eyebrow in question. She sighs, resting her arms on the railing and looking out into the parking lot. “You have feelings for him. Don’t you?”

You blink. 

It couldn’t have been that obvious right? I mean, you only just recently realized you were in love with liked him in that way. How could anyone already notice the signs or the lovelorn gloss in your stare? Your silence and lack of immediate reaction, however, gives away the truth, so you know that you can’t refute. 

“How did you know?” You ask, picking at a thread on your red sweater dress. Minjae’s girlfriend coos, like an older, wiser, sisterly figure who’s been waiting for the opportunity to bring out her life advice. 

“I’ve had a hunch for a while now,” she smiles softly. “But I think my suspicion stems from personal experience, mostly. Because I know when Minjae and I were ‘just friends’, we acted very similarly. And you were a bit quiet when we went to see the lights. I figured it had to be that, or you’d gotten into a fight, which seemed unlikely.”

“I don’t even know if he feels the same,” you nip at the inside of your lip. “There was an incident when we were decorating the apartment and we haven’t spoken about it since it happened. I think he’s pretending that it didn’t.”

“What happened?” She presses, now squared off to you. 

“I almost fell off the step stool and he caught me and it was really romantic and that’s when I realized that maybe I’ve been harboring feelings for him all this time but before I could even think about my next action, he pulled away.” You talk quickly, like you were on a time crunch. Minjae’s girlfriend follows along with your story as best she can, nodding every couple of words so you knew she understood what you were saying, despite the whole thing being one big run on sentence. 

“Oh wow,” she cringes. “In my humble opinion, I think he’s just… emotionally constipated. He’s… Sumin… you know? He’s not used to these kinds of things. Sometimes when we’re scared of something new, we seek comfortability. Maybe he’s afraid of the change.”

She had a very valid, very strong point. Choi Sumin had never boded well with change. For example; when he was a junior in high school, his Physics teacher had left halfway through the school year for family reasons and he failed the class even though he had an A before that. Luckily, you failed your Pre Calculus class, so both of you got to take summer school together. There was a real chance that Minjae’s girlfriend was on the right track. 

“I think you’re right,” you sigh, leaning back against the railing and watching the ten chaotic boys inside of your apartment. “I should wait for him to come to me.”

“You should, but,” she grins, like she knew something you didn’t. “That doesn’t mean I don’t plan on meddling just a little.”

Though ominous in her tone, you knew she meant no harm. So you’d let her do her thing, even if you were slightly unnerved. The two of you head back in to join everyone in the living room. You shoot Sumin a small smile from the opposite sofa, sandwiched between Yechan and Yujun. He mirrors your expression from his spot on the floor in front of Jinsik. 

The rest of the night goes smoothly. You play some games like Uno and a heated few rounds of Charades, the competition amongst your friends going crazy. All of you agreed on doing a Secret Santa exchange, since buying each member of your group a gift was pricey. (After all, you were twelve people deep.) Whether it was luck, or the universe loved to laugh at your expense, you drew Sumin’s name. There was a thirty dollar price limit on gifts, but you knew he’d wanted this oil paint set for a while. (The price could remain a secret to everyone else.) 

It was hilarious, really, that Sumin drew your name. 

The exchanging portion of the night was also uneventful. No one was that shocked to find out you and your best friend had gotten each other except for, well, you and your best friend. You didn’t open your gifts until your friends had all left, feeling like your personal biases were too strong to deny. 

You also decided to open them separately from the other. So when you unwrapped yours to find the prettiest necklace you’d ever seen with your initial as a charm, you almost cried like a baby. It was definitely out of the thirty dollar price limit, but you couldn’t dare complain. 

This was when you thought maybe it was the right time to confess and get everything off of your chest. 

But then Minjae’s girlfriend’s advice rings in your ears and you hold back. You had to wait for him to come to you. 

The fourth, and final, time you and Sumin want to confess to each other, is on Christmas morning. 

You woke up earlier than he did and thought it might be nice to surprise him with breakfast. You’d exchanged gifts the night before, so today would be a relaxed day. At least, you hoped it would, what with all the insane tension and stepping on eggshells around each other. 

Despite not being that great at cooking, you still knew how to whip up some basic things. Most, if not all, of them were Sumin’s favorites. You’d decided to make him some French toast with fresh fruit. Thankfully, you had everything you needed, so it would be easy to just start now. 

The smell that filled the air following each sizzle on the griddle had your mouth watering. If he wasn’t convinced that you were wife material after this, he was a lost cause. Hell, if he didn’t think you were girlfriend material after this, you just might rip your hair out. 

Over this past month, you’d given yourself plenty of time to reminisce over your feelings for your best friend. Upon the realization that you had them, you wondered what made him so special, what set him apart from the rest. The answer was simple; he was Sumin. 

Sure, he was goofy and he never really did things the conventional way. He was too stubborn for his own good and he wouldn’t be caught dead showing affection to anyone but his mother. But despite that, he always wore his heart on his sleeve and allowed himself to be trampled over when he didn’t deserve it. He was a little messy and left cookie trays on the stove after he used the oven. He somehow managed to leave a single water cup in the sink every time. He fell asleep on the couch often and sometimes forgot to lock the front door. 

Above all of that, he was the best thing that had ever happened to you. He knew exactly when you needed a good laugh, the kind that had you hunching over and clutching your stomach. He showed you that he appreciated you in the ways that he could, without overstepping any boundaries. He did your laundry for you on occasion, even when you didn’t ask him to. He always seemed to know when you were running low on facial cleanser or moisturizer, setting a new one in the midst of your things. If you were out for the night, he waited in the living room until he was sure you were home safe. 

He wasn’t like every other guy out in the universe, but that’s what made him so special, what set him apart from the rest. That was why you fell so hard and so fast. Choi Sumin would forever be the person your heart continued to beat for, even if he didn’t feel the same. 

You didn’t even realize you’d finished making around half a loaf of bread, far too absorbed in your thoughts. You plate them on your nicer, china plates and dust some powdered sugar on top. After slicing a few strawberries, you set everything on the breakfast bar. 

It actually looks like a scene straight from a movie. Had you and Sumin been a real couple, and not just a couple of besties, this would be the perfect Christmas. But a girl could only dream, you suppose. 

Lost inside of your mind again while stirring some cream into your coffee, you don’t hear the creak of Sumin’s bedroom door. He stumbles into the kitchen with a yawn, cheeks puffy. His eyes are bleary, taking a moment to focus on the sight of you blowing away the steam coming up from your mug. He spots the French toast not much later, his heart swelling. 

“Morning,” he rasps, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. 

You jump, startled by the sudden voice. “Good morning. I— uh— I made breakfast.”

“I see that,” he smiles, sitting on the stool beside you. “Smells yummy.”

You eat in silence as he pours himself some orange juice. It’s weird. Silence. It’s not a common occurrence between the two of you, given the fact that you’d been as close as you have for almost a decade now. You were both the type to talk for ages without getting bored of the other. 

“So—”

“How—”

You both start speaking at the same time, laughing together at the silly coincidence. Sumin looks adorable with his mouth full of French toast. You look like something straight out of a Christmas catalog. He swallows his food, holding his fist to his mouth. 

“You go first.” He nods. 

“I was just gonna ask if you liked your gifts from your parents,” you say, shifting your attention to the suddenly very interesting three-quarters-empty mug of coffee. “Your mom called me for my opinion when she was buying the headphones.”

Sumin thinks he might burst into tears over his barely finished plate of breakfast. His mother was the only woman in his life that had yet to fail him. She’s the only one he’d ever allowed into his heart for so long. And then you came along and changed all of that. You became someone he could lean on, someone he could depend on when he thought life was caving in on him. It made him so happy knowing that you had a good relationship with his mom. His two favorite ladies. 

He doesn’t answer you, instead grabbing your face and pulling you to him. He connects your lips in a sweet kiss, one that communicates everything he’s been trying to say for days, weeks, months, years. It’s unplanned, it’s a little messy, and it’s kind of desperate, but it’s perfect. 

You part for air, resting your forehead on his as he chases your kiss. A giggle bubbles past your throat. “A bit eager now, are we?”

“I have wanted to do that for so long,” he sighs, eyes closed, nose brushing yours. “You have no idea.”

“What about—” You stamp another kiss on the corner of his mouth, then another on the center, and you punctuate each word with more. “—Less talking? More kissing?” 

“I really like the sound of that,” he whispers, reciprocating. His kisses trail from your mouth to your ear, lighting fire beneath your skin. Everywhere his lips touch, you ache for more. 

When you and Sumin became friends, this was never on your list of things that could possibly happen in the future. You never thought you’d be making out with him in your shared kitchen on Christmas morning. Or at all, for that matter. This was entirely out of your realm of possibilities. 

It’s just too easy to fall into his kiss and the way his lips taste so sweet on yours. There’s a hint of syrup and powdered sugar that makes it so much more addicting. You think you could make French toast for breakfast every day if it meant he tasted this enticing.

Sumin steps off the stool and slots himself between your legs, not breaking away from you for a second. His hands rub up and down the sides of your thighs, fingers slipping under your shirt just like he wanted that day you were decorating. Had he gotten his shot together at the beginning of the month, he could’ve been doing this so long ago. 

“I want more, Sumin,” you murmured against his lips. Now that he made the first move, you’re definitely willing to take what you’ve been wanting and waiting for. He parts from you slightly, noses brushing. 

“Are you sure?” Deep down, he’s still scared that changing everything about your dynamic means there’s a chance he could lose you. 

Your hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb caressing his skin gently. You stare at him with the utmost adoration, as if he personally placed each star in the sky. Sumin thinks he could die the happiest man ever right now, slipping under the spell that is your sparkly eyes. 

“I’ve never been more sure about something in my life.” Your voice is just above a whisper, but it’s enough to assure him. He smiles at you softly, pressing his lips to yours once again. 

Sumin grabs at the hem of your shirt, pulling it off of you carefully. He kisses all over your neck and chest, nipping and sucking wherever he pleases. Your whines fuel his desperation, encouraging his confidence. He helps you onto the counter, trailing his lips down your body to the waistband of your pajama pants. 

His eyes gaze up at yours, mouth glued to your lower stomach as his fingers make quick work of the bow. He drags them down your legs, faster than your top, until you’re left in nothing except your undergarments. He reaches behind you for something and your eyebrows knit together. 

When he produces the can of whipped cream from your breakfast, you feel the fire beneath your skin burning heavier. He pushes down on the nozzle, a line of whipped cream connecting the band of your bra to your panties. Sumin makes eye contact with you once more to ensure that this is still okay. With your lip between your teeth and your elbows propping you up, he has his answer. 

At what feels like the most agonizingly slowest pace, Sumin licks the whipped cream from your skin. He kisses and suckles at the surface as he does so, making sure to not leave a bit of the confectionery behind. 

A gasp escapes you when his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, mouth still exploring the plane of your lower stomach. He peels them away from your body, not wasting a second the moment your cunt is bared to him. His lips envelope your clit, thumb circling your entrance. Your head tilts back, your sighs of pleasure transforming into moans. 

The way he’s teasing you inches you closer and closer to your release, but not enough to push you over entirely. The tip of his finger slides in, but then slides right back out, not giving you much of anything to work with. You whine when his tongue laps at your clit. It feels so good, but it’s not what you need. You’re itching for more. 

Sumin can tell you’re getting antsy because you keep wriggling around in his hold. He halts his motions. “More?”

You nod frantically. “Please?”

Two of Sumin’s fingers slip inside of you with ease, grazing that sweet spot at the crook of your pussy. A moan forces itself from your chest, nails digging into your palms to keep yourself grounded. He grins to himself before attaching to your clit again. The bundle of nerves is extremely sensitive now, speeding up the process. 

“You’re so cute,” he mumbles into your lower lips, still consuming you as if you were his last meal. 

All you can do is let out a strangled groan, eyes squeezed shut. His mouth is on your neck once more, and his fingers are swiping side to side on your clit, bursting through the dam containing your bliss. It feels like your whole body has deflated, losing all your strength from supporting your own weight. 

You’re spent, but you need him unlike you’ve ever needed something in your life. Hopefully he’s good at reading you, because all that you can manage to do is communicate that through your pleading eyes. Sumin purses his lips, placing a small kiss at the tip of your nose. Your head chases after him, a pout finding its way onto your face when it doesn’t receive what it wants. 

“Baby, are you sure you can give me another?” He asks you politely, respectfully. You sit up and cup either side of his head as you do so. 

“I have to. I wanna feel you, all of you,” is your reply. Your foot nudges at the band of his sweatpants, batting your eyelashes at him as seductively as you can. He laughs, a soft laugh that tells you he isn’t making fun of you, but rather, he’s endeared by your actions. 

Sumin kisses you like drizzling honey on a warm croissant, something so sweet and comforting. You aid him as best as you can in removing his clothes. Just as you reach out to stroke his cock, he takes your wrist into his hand gently. “I don’t have any protection, though.”

“It’s okay,” you shake your head, leaving a peck on his cheek. “I trust you. With every part of myself.”

His lips are on yours again as he aligns himself with your entrance. The second he slips in, he feels like he’s on another planet. Your pussy is so inviting, so snug around his dick. It’s like you were made for him, sucking him in with each thrust of his hips. His forehead falls to your shoulder, a hiss reaching your ears when he finally bottoms out. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, grip tight on your hips. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, palms flat on the counter beneath you. Slowly, building up to a pace that’s suitable for both of you, he begins to rock into you. His hold on your sides is enough to make you meet him halfway. 

“You feel so good, Sumin,” you moan, head falling backward so your throat is on display for him. 

He groans into your skin, loving the sound of your voice while he’s inside of you. It’s the loveliest thing he’s ever heard. This is all he could ever need. You. This apartment. Endless days of just having you in his arms, whether it was like this or in a wholesome manner, he didn’t mind either. 

Sumin increases the intensity of his movements when he suspects you’re getting close again, feeling that familiar pulse of your walls. His thumb finds your swollen clit again, circling it with the tiniest amount of pressure. He smiles to himself when you tighten around him, knowing that he’s giving it to you good, the way you deserve. 

He knows there isn’t really a difference between fucking someone and making love to him, as they are essentially the same thing. But making love to someone requires emotion. Some very strong ones at that. And luckily, he had those emotions for you. He wanted to ensure that you felt every single one translated into what he was giving you. He wanted to give you tender love and care. 

Your volume increases, growing higher in pitch the nearer you are to your climax. He kisses you passionately, a lot like that first one you shared, and that’s what brings you to that euphoric waterfall. Your release washes over you in waves, as if you really were at the bottom of cascading water. 

Sumin works you through your orgasm, pulling out once you’re revived. You take his cock into your hand, pumping it so he could finish on your lower belly. His eyes flutter shut momentarily, breathing deeply before he helps you off the counter and cleans you up gently. He kisses the crown of your head, pulling you into him for a warm embrace. (The warmest embrace you’ve ever had in your life.)

“We kinda have to— um— we have to talk about this don’t we?” Out of nowhere, he’s shy, almost like he hadn’t just fucked you on your kitchen counter. 

“I think you’re overthinking things, Sumin. I mean, we have feelings for each other. That’s really all there is to it,” you say into his chest. “We don’t have to make things extremely complicated for no reason. I love you, you love me.” 

“It’s not that I just love you,” he shakes his head. “I’ve been in love with you since senior year. We were getting older and I realized that the fear of losing you to adulthood wasn’t just because I was afraid of you and I drifting apart. It was also because I didn’t want to lose you. I was scared of you meeting new people and forgetting me when I was the one there for you for so long. And fuck, you deserve better than a spontaneous confession after I just defiled you where we eat every day. You deserve fireworks and flowers, you deserve this big grand gesture in a fancy restaurant where hundreds of people can see how special you are. You deserve something surprising.”

You feel tears well in your eyes, your heart just about growing in size. Even if it wasn’t conventionally perfect, it was everything you wanted to hear. Then again, conventionality was never Choi Sumin’s thing, so you never expected anything less. 

His mouth parts when he sees that you're crying, scrambling to figure out what he did wrong. You dismiss his worries, wiping away stray tears quickly. At the same time, you notice something on the ceiling, scoffing to yourself. Minjae’s girlfriend really was something else. 

You point up. “How’s that for surprising?”

He can’t help but laugh at the mistletoe hung right above you, completely inconspicuous this entire time. He closes the gap between you with a quirk of his lip. “Guess we gotta follow tradition. I heard it’s bad luck if you don’t kiss underneath the mistletoe.”

“Did you now?” You tease, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Yup, and I’m pretty sure it’s generational. Plus, we have an entire day ahead of us, so I think we should continue what we started.” His face is so close to your own as he says this. You giggle. 

When your lips meet again, it’s like all is right in the world. Everything melted away and became background noise, like time had stopped specifically for this moment. The moment where it was just you and Sumin. 

This was better than any other gift you could’ve gotten under the tree. Thanks, Santa.

© 𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒏.

[problemswithbooks]

BNHA Ch. 429

So, I guess Toga is dead, and people are losing it.

I get why people liked her--she was actually queer, being pan/bisexual. She was representation for them and that's rare in shonen manga. But here's the thing--she was bad representation at best and insulting at worst. Nor do I think she was made queer because Hori really wanted to represent a queer girl. Himiko was always the author's poorly hidden fetish--she just was. She liked girls as much as boys because Hori wanted to draw a girl touching sexually on another girl. You can see this in how he draws her and Ochako in solo pics together.

I mean, people seem to understand this when it comes to Momo and her outfit being overly sexual or that both Himiko and Hagakure's Quirks either leave them naked or they have to be naked to use them. These are excuses to draw girls in a sexual manner. Himiko being into other girls is the same thing and that's the kindest interpretation.

Given how Himiko acts and her Quirk being heavily coded sexual desire, and therefore her use of it against someone unwilling being sexual assault, it could just being playing into harmful stereotypes of predatory gays.

As a queer person myself I just found Toga insulting. She was designed to be overly sexual and give the male author a female character that he could draw being suggestive with his other female characters. When he did flesh out her character, her backstory was eventually the trope/fear of straight people, that gay people will be so overcome with their lust that they end up sexually assaulting them.

In the end Ochako accepts this part of Toga and says she'll giver her blood forever, but as much as a lot of readers took that that as some deep lesbian confession, for me it really fell flat. Hori never really gave any of the main kids time to actually learn about their villain or show how that changed their minds toward them. Shoto only works because Touya is his brother (even though he admits he barely remembers him). But Ochako goes from not thinking of Toga at all pre-first war, to one thought about her during her speech, to suddenly caring about her so much she--given how Toga's quirk is coded, is willing to essentially fulfill Toga's kink for the rest of their lives.

It's weird and it comes out of nowhere. It's made even stranger because Toga doesn't actually change or show remorse for anything she did, which included personally hunting and murdering people before she joined the LOV. None of the death and destruction she is also partially responsible for is brought up either, something that Ochako was rightfully upset about during the first war when less people and property had been destroyed. Ochako just accepts everything about her suddenly and her past serious crimes are forgotten so they can cuddle and cry.

Am I shocked Toga died--a little. I didn't think Hori would have the guts to kill off a young girl character, especially one that he clearly got a lot of joy drawing in sexy poses. But at the same time, once he killed off Shigaraki and ended Touya's story with his slow death, I'm not surprised he went the same route with Toga.

This isn't Naruto--Hori isn't really kind to characters that do something wrong, especially if they don't try and change. Enji, Bakugo, Hawks, and Aoyama all sort of got punished for what they did. Enji is the worst off, being permanently crippled, missing an arm and burned everywhere. Bakugo's hand is damaged, his heart weaker, plus he feels bad that Izuku lost his Quirk so they can't compete the same way he wanted them to. Aoyama, despite doing way less wrong and even helping his class during the forest raid, still leaves school because he doesn't feel he earned being there yet. Hawks lost his Quirk and even though him running the HPSC could be seen as good for him, Hawks always wanted a break, but now he has one of the most time consuming and stressful jobs out there.

So, if this is what characters who actively did good things and even changed and fought to be better get, what would characters who never changed and never did anything positive for anyone but their friends/themselves get?

Before the last Arc started, when so many people said the LoV were 100% going to be redeemed I had doubts and always thought it wouldn't make sense with how the story presented redemption or treated other non-LoV villains in the past. That if the main LoV did get some happy ending where they were bffs with the main cast it would clash with how other characters had been treated.

That doesn't mean that I think how Shigaraki, Toga, and Touya ended up in the manga was well done. I think their endings fit far better then a last minute redemption would have, but at the same time you can feel how rushed everything has been since the end of the first war arc. Hori was done with this story months if not years ago, yet he was contractually obligated to finish it. Because of that I think he left out as much as possible. As much as I think he's written some pretty obsessive stuff, particularly towards women, I can't really fully blame him cutting corners or the story being shit at the end.

We know Manga authors, particularly those that work with Jump are treated like shit. That they suffer incredibly long hours at times not even getting to go home for days. We've gotten messages for Hori saying he's sick quite a few times. On top of that, weekly story telling is not a great way to tell a cohesive narrative. Ideas probably change week to week or at least month to month and you can't go back and change the last chapter no matter how much you need or want to. Then you remember he also gave a lot of ideas to the people who made the movies, which would also change his plans for how he wanted the main story to go.

The story is bad--it has been for a while, but I think a lot of people put their hopes on their favorite characters getting a happy ending, even when there were signs that probably wasn't going to be the case. I know how much it sucks when a character you love gets a shitty ending (Stain was my fav, but he got an absolute dogshit ending) but at least, knowing what I know about the industry I can't really blame Hori the way I see some other people doing. Criticize it, sure, but saying Hori hates his readers or is horrible writer isn't true. BNHA was popular for a reason--he's great with characters and the beginning of the story had some great pacing. We'll never know, but I wouldn't be surprised if BNHA could have been amazing if Hori had been treated better and the story hadn't needed a chapter every week.

If anything BNHA has taught me how much a story suffers when authors/artists are treated like crap and forced to work past burnout.

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

even though i feel like i can confidently tell when a piece of art is generative A/I, i really don't feel inclined or really even justified calling someone out for it due to the precedent it sets - especially when artists who DO make their own pieces get caught in the crossfire for being inexperienced or making the choice to be more free-form when it comes to character design / consistency...

[imflyingfish]

i gotta start editing videos so that i can be as pretentious about it as i feel i am.

[drill-teeth-art]

Wow! Here’s something incredibly personal.

This is Good Bi Gender. A comic I made to express some feelings I have about my gender. I don’t really have that much else to say about it. Here it is.

[Image Description: A digital comic made with sharp, angular abstract lines and only the colors white, blue, pink, and black. The featured character is all white, except for facial features and hair colors, which changes from panel to panel. The comic reads: Cover Panel: The text "Good Bi Gender", the words colored with the trans flag. It shows a glitchy person's face, half pink and half blue. Panel 1: White text reads: "Hello. My name is apparently irrelevant. And my pronouns are he/him and she/her. But you can't call me she/her. And here's why." Someone with a half-pink and half-blue shirt looks to the side. One eye is covered with hair, and the other eye is pink while the iris is blue.

Panel 2: The character sits happily, imagining facial hair and a masculine voice. "I don't want top surgery. I love my chest. And I dream about being on testosterone someday soon." The character looks at a phone, frowning. The phone shows the male symbol with an "X" through it. Text next to it reads: “People don't seem to think that the features I dream of are very pretty though... Or they think even worse of them than that…”

Panel 3: The character’s features are all pink, and sits in a blank frame. The character reaches over to a blue frame, frowning. “I don't like the animosity. I really despise it.” A photo of the character shows an all-blue frame and blue hair, with pink outlines and facial features. “To be a boy... I aspire to be one. I aspire to be masculine in all its handsomeness. All its prettiness.” Panel 4: The character sits in an all blue panel, but reaches back out to the pink panel. “And I'm still a girl too. I was so excited to have both. To love both. To have handsome femininity. Beautiful masculinity.” The frames break and connect, and pink and blue swirl together. The character smiles in between the frames, with one pink eye and one blue eye. “So excited. And yet I get asked…”

Panel 5: Two hands hold out two different pills to the character, one blue and one pink. They ask “Male? or Female?” using the male and female symbols.The character, facial features an array of pink and blue, looks between the two hands, distressed. “It's both! I'm both! They're not opposites. Not narrow boxes. I say I'm both despite the insistence that I can't be. And I know what I look like. I know I look like a girl to most. I know that if I say people can call me she, that's all I will get from most. Because it's "easier". It "makes more sense". To have my masculinity, I am often forced to be unflinching in it and it alone. To never use she. Because if I don't, I will never get to have he.” [The words "she" and "he" are italicized.] Panel 6: Text reads: “I'm still very happy to be so comfortable in my identity. To know, despite all that, that I am indeed a boy and a girl and both. But you know. Telling people to only use he/him for me. Guarding my masculinity all just to have it. All at the expense of the part of me who is happily and unashamedly a girl.” The character cries from one pink eye, the other hidden. The character holds a pink girl in a sea of blue, the girl crying out. In the midst of the blue, text reads: “Well, it fucking breaks her heart.” End ID]

Edit: @starberry-skies wrote an ID for the comic, so I added it to the og post with its permission!

[robo-writing]

Logan with a virgin reader, expecting her to be this shy nervous little thing only to be met with a woman who’s spent too much of her life with only her imagination to keep her company. Suddenly he’s the one nervous because you’re so eager to fuck him and you’re begging him so nicely that it’s hard for him to remember you’ve never actually done this and he has to be responsible. You whine the entire time he’s stretching you out with his fingers, hands grabbing at him and pleading with him to replace his fingers with his cock and god damn it, you’re making it really fucking hard for him to focus.

You’re both bare, losing your clothes somewhere between the living room and the kitchen. The feeling of skin against skin drives you wild, makes you plead for the cock that’s throbbing against your thigh. You know he wants this just as bad as you do, you can feel how bad he wants this, but he settles for spreading you apart on his fingers.

You know you’re testing his patience but you don’t care; not when you grind against him, not when his cock glides against your bare pussy, not when he pins you to the bed as your back arches off it.

“Stop moving,” he begs, over and over. “Stop it, stop—stop fucking moving.”

You’re killing him; every time you look at him with those darling little doe eyes he can feel what little self-restraint he has left crumbling apart, every whine and moan and please Logan, gimme more testing his resolve.

“You need to stop,” he begs, head falling forward as your cunt wets his dick, sliding against his length but refusing to push forward and take you. You shake your head, pull him in for a kiss that’s anything but demure, lust pouring from your tongue as you lick at his mouth.

“Don’t wanna,” you gasp, pulling him closer by his shoulders. Between each kiss you see his control waning, feel his hands bruised your skin, taste the depravity between his teeth. Slowly but surely you see his mask slipping away, a beast in disguise of a man, one that desperately wants to claim you as his.

A sick part of you wants that; to submit yourself, bare your neck against its fangs and beg for more when its teeth pierce your skin. You want to give yourself to Logan—all of him, even the parts that he himself doesn’t want to show you. You want your first time to be just as enjoyable for him as it is for you—which is why you bring his hand to your stomach, to where his dick would leave an outline. You hold his hand firm as he stares with lust-blown eyes just imagining how full of him you’d be, in awe at just how willing you are to submit.

“I can handle it, you whimper, voice sweet like sin. “Fuck me, please.”

And like that, you’re no longer faced with your loving boyfriend. You’re now face to face with the Wolverine.

He pushes inside your velvet walls, still conscious enough to give you a moment to adjust. The feeling is new, full. Your voice wobbles when his thumb reaches down to circle your clit, just enough to get you to relax as he feeds your greedy pussy inch after inch.

“Y’gotta breathe for me baby,” he rasps into the side of your neck, releasing a breath you never knew you were holding. He rewards your obedience with more of his dick, slowly rocking against you as you start to adjust to the feeling.

“Feels good,” you whisper, stroking his hair. Your eyes are locked with his, lost in his pretty emerald eyes. “You can move.”

“Are you sure?” He asks. “Not sure I’ll be able to stop once I do.”

You know he’s telling the truth, it’s written all over his face. A need to possess you in body and soul, his eyes glued to where you’re both connected with a sickening fascination. You know the actual question he's asking, even if he can't bring himself to say it. Are you sure you want me? You realize he's just as vulnerable as you are, unsure of himself. It's a rarity that Logan ever talks about himself, always focused on you above all. You want to give him a break, want to make him feel as good as he makes you feel, want him to finally stop holding back and let go. So you kiss him, long and deep, and hope that gets the message across. His answer comes in the form of hands on your hips, the deep timbre of his voice radiating from his broad chest. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

[racefortheironthrone]

Hi- er, this is my first-ever writer's strike, how does one not cross a picket line in this context? I know how not to do it with things like Amazon and IRL strikes, but how does it apply to media/streaming?

Hi, this is a great question, because it allows me to write about the difference between honoring a picket line and a boycott. (This is reminding me of the labor history podcast project that's lain fallow in my drafts folder for some time now...) In its simplest formulation, the difference between a picket line and a boycott is that a picket line targets an employer at the point of production (which involves us as workers), whereas a boycott targets an employer at the point of consumption (which involves us as consumers).

So in the case of the WGA strike, this means that at any company that is being struck by the WGA - I've seen Netflix, Amazon, Apple, Disney, Warner Brothers Discovery, NBC, Paramount, and Sony mentioned, but there may be more (check the WGA website and social media for a comprehensive list) - you do not cross a picket line, whether physical or virtual. This means you do not take a meeting with them, even if its a pre-existing project, you do not take phone calls or texts or emails or Slacks from their executives, you do not pitch them on a spec script you've written, and most of all you do not answer any job application.

Because if this strike is like any strike since the dawn of time, you will see the employers put out ads for short-term contracts that will be very lucrative, generally above union scale - because what they're paying for in addition to your labor is you breaking the picket line and damaging the strike - to anyone willing to scab against their fellow workers. GIven that one of the main issues of the WGA are the proliferation of short-term "mini rooms" whereby employers are hiring teams of writers to work overtime for a very short period, to the point where they can only really do the basics (a series outline, some "broken stories," and some scripts) and then have the showrunner redo everything on their lonesome, while not paying writers long-term pay and benefits, I would imagine we're going to see a lot of scab contracts being offered for these mini rooms.

But for most of us, unless we're actively working as writers in Hollywood, most of that isn't going to be particularly relevant to our day-to-day working lives. If you're not a professional or aspiring Hollywood writer, the important thing to remember honoring the picket line doesn't mean the same thing as a boycott. WGA West hasn't called on anyone to stop going to the movies or watching tv/streaming or to cancel their streaming subscriptions or anything like that. If and when that happens, WGA will go to some lengths to publicize that ask - and you should absolutely honor it if you can - so there will be little in the way of ambiguity as to what's going on.

That being said, one of the things that has happened in the past in other strikes is that well-intentioned people get it into their heads to essentially declare wildcat (i.e, unofficial and unsanctioned) boycotts. This kind of stuff comes from a good place, someone wanting to do more to support the cause and wanting to avoid morally contaminating themselves by associating with a struck company, but it can have negative effects on the workers and their unions. Wildcat boycotts can harm workers by reducing back-end pay and benefits they get from shows if that stuff is tied to the show's performance, and wildcat boycotts can hurt unions by damaging negotiations with employers that may or may not be going on.

The important thing to remember with all of this is that the strike is about them, not us. Part of being a good ally is remembering to let the workers' voices be heard first and prioritizing being a good listener and following their lead, rather than prioritizing our feelings.

[elllisaaa]

THINK AABOUT THIS

horny bsfheeseung who can't control himself when he's with you and eventually ends up fucking you on a rainy night

i'm thinking about it yes, because imagine HORNY BSF!HEESEUNG who was only supposed to come spend the afternoon at your place and watch a film with you. it was a cold day, so you were wearing a hoodie three times too big for you, some shorts and your warmest socks. you had already set up the couch - cozy blankets prepared for you, snacks and drinks scattered all over your table. and you were just so excited about finally spending time with him that heeseung felt really guilty about the way he couldn't help feeling hot under the collar when you hugged him and dragged him to the couch, snuggling up against him because you were freezing.

you put on the film, but heeseung cannot focus on it at all. everytime he tries to look at the tv screen, his eyes are drawn back to you - to your pretty face, pretty eyes, and pretty lips that he's dying to kiss. he's not usually this bothered around you, he has self-control, but there's just something about you today and the way your scent intoxicates him more than usual that makes him hard in his sweatpants. but it's okay, heeseung thinks, he just has to go through the movie without being suspicious and then he can go home.

wrong. not even halfway through the film, rain starts pouring outside. and it doesn't seem to stop. its raining so much that when the movie ends, you decide that it's too dangerous for heeseung to take his car to go home now. "but it's okay, you sleep here." and heeseung wants to say no, because he knows that if he stays in your presence one more minute, he's going to lose control. but you're actually right, he cannot drive in this weather.

so heeseung tries to not look at your ass too much as you bend down to get him another pillow so he can sleep on your couch comfortably. and he tries to not get distracted by the way he can still see the outline of your boobs, even under your oversized sweater. it's hard - and he's very hard by now - but he really tries. he's aware you're just being sweet, he's aware that you're not feeling the same as him, he's aware that he's being pathetic, but just cannot stop himself when you bend down again in your tight shorts to pick up a pack of gummies that fell to the floor.

"fuck, y/n, can you stop doing this ?" you turn around, the bag of candies in your hands and a clueless look on your face as you plant your innocent gaze into heeseung's lustful one. "stop doing what hee ?" - "bending over like this, showing me your pretty ass. that is if you don't want me to fuck you, baby." he eats up the way your cheeks immediately grow red, mouth opening and closing without knowing what to say anymore. the smirk on his face widens as he gets closer and you don't back out, dropping back the sweets once he wraps his arms around your waist. "so, what do you say ?" his lips are brushing against yours with how close he is, but you don't mind it, you just him to kiss you now. "yes, please."

heeseung doesn't waste any more time talking before he grabs you by your neck to pull in a kiss that leaves dazed, your mind blank, breath short from how good his tongue alone makes you feel. he chuckles when you chase his lips, fists closing around the fabric of his tee. "you want more ?" - "heeseung, please, don't tease me… i've waited for this long enough." the realization that you had been wanting just as bad is what sends heeseung far away, too far away to have control over himself anymore. "shit, i'm sorry princess, i'm gonna make it up, yeah ?" you nod and the next thing you know is that heeseung has you bend over for him on the couch, your shorts and underwear pulled down just enough so that he can push his cock inside of you.

"feeling so good baby, knew you would, i knew you would be perfect for me." you only moan louder at his words, trying to keep a bit of sanity as heeseung pounds into you like an animal. but in the end you don't mind the way his hand presses against your lower back, under your hoodie that he didn't take the time to throw away, forcing your back to arch even more, his cock hitting even deeper into you. "hee ! i'm close, i'm close please…" - "gonna make you cum all over my dick and then fill you up. everybody's gonna know you're mine this way."

and you don't deny, because in the end that's what you want. as you come down from your high, slowly opening your eyes that fall on the raindrops hitting your windows, you wonder if he really means it. "shit… you're still so tight baby, makes me want to fuck you again." you only whine at his words, letting him grab your hair and yank your head back. and you don't dare ask him what's gonna happen after, you just want to enjoy the way he's making you feel a little longer.

[plutotheplum]

ᡣ𐭩 zayne | head under the desk ᡣ𐭩

zayne is a professional man, by all standards.

or he tries to convince himself that he is. he treats his patients with respect, listens to their concerns and provides them with the help they need. he is a professional. 

but you seem to turn professionalism on its head. zayne doesn’t know how it started, although he suspects it was when you squirmed onto his lap in the afternoon, complaining about how he was spending too much time in his office and not enough time at home. zayne had soothed your worries with a kiss and a squeeze to the waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he had worked through the necessary paperwork for his patients.

he hadn’t quite understood then why you’d insisted on sitting on the floor of all places, worming out of his lap and into the space between his legs, your cheek resting on his thigh. he hadn’t even minded until he felt your fingers pulling at his chair, boxing you in under his desk. zayne had protested, but his resolve shattered the moment you had mouthed at his clothed cock, your mouth wet against the fabric of his slacks.

you were insatiable, zayne had realised in that moment, his eyes narrowing as he had watched the haze that had come over your eyes as you’d drooled on his slacks, mouthing and licking and making soft, little noises until he gave in and pulled his cock out for you.

he had watched you take it, despite the threatening urge to let his head tip back, your mouth making room for his thick cock as you slurped and sucked, tongue flicking at his throbbing head, wet with pre-cum. you had made him cum like that, mouth working along his cock, obscene noises filling his professional space. and you swallowed it down too, like a good girl, his voice rasping and breathless as he’d praised you and caressed your cheek, smearing the tip of his cock against your lips to watch his cum be licked up by his darling.

zayne shouldn’t have let you do it.

it’s why he’s in this situation now, his cock stuffed down your throat and some intern sitting across from him, droning on about suturing techniques. zayne tries to pay attention, he really does, but when you suckle at the sensitive head of his cock, a shudder rushes through him, his hand slapping against the desk in an effort to stop the moan.

the intern asks whether he’s okay and zayne can only give him a jerky nod, his gaze dropping down for a split second to see the soft smile on your face as you kiss the tip of his cock delicately. zayne thinks you look beautiful. 

beautiful but devious with the way you latch onto his balls, his hand clenching into a fist as he tells the intern that yes, a simple interrupted suture would be best. zayne tries to think through the heavy haze of arousal, his vision blurring for a moment when he feels you nuzzle into his cock, beginning to lap at the tip again. 

he can feel you shift subtly, trapping his leg between your thighs, your hips rocking needily as you take his cock deeper, your greedy fingers creeping up to feel his tensed abdomen. his cock is terribly sensitive and you aren’t helping, so much so that he mutters a low curse.

zayne has no choice but to cut the discussion short, telling the intern that no, he is actually feeling sick. the intern looks apologetic as he leaves and zayne groans the moment the intern is out the door, his teeth sinking into his fist as he leans back and watches you worship his cock. 

you’re both too addicted to the rush of indecency to stop. zayne puts his hand on your head, guiding you down slowly until you swallow the entirety of his cock, your fingers moving needily between your thighs as you suck greedily, drinking down every drop of pre-cum that zayne has to offer.

he can feel the press of your nose against his pelvis, his head dropping forward as he peers down into your eyes, thumb smoothing over the outline that his cock has made against your cheek. 

you let your tongue loll out and zayne bites back a whine as he slaps his cock against your tongue, feeding it to you again until you suck and lick and he’s cumming, thighs twitching and chair creaking as he presses his hips forward, flush against your mouth.

he covers his face with his hand, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. zayne can feel the curve of your smile against his skin as you kiss his thighs, and watches you dazedly as you rise up and crawl up onto his lap, peppering sticky kisses along his cheek before licking into his mouth.

zayne can taste himself on your tongue, a soft moan spilling out of him when he feels you press closer, breasts squished up against his chest, your smile and starry eyes making his head spin and heart ache. 

it’s only right of him to repay the favor when you get home, his mouth lapping at your cunt over and over until you cry and beg for his cock, utterly overstimulated and yet still needy.

he stuffs you full with his cock, fucks you until you’re both limbless and sensitive and curled up together in bed, arms and legs tangled in a messy embrace. 

“fun,” you mumble, voice hoarse, “again?” 

“no,” zayne replies, his own voice raspy, “you can’t do that again.”

he smiles faintly when he sees the pout on your face, his fingers squishing your cheeks to make your lips pucker out so that he can kiss you gently.

zayne is nothing if not terribly weak for you. 

you end up under his desk, fat cock stuffed down your throat the following week.

[shoeistars]

— NO PHOTOS ! pt. 1

༺ feat. isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, nagi

༺ outline. where the boys keep their slutty polas of you <3

༺ w. pro!players, 18+ content, minors dni, photos/polas, fem!reader, read at your own discretion as I don’t do individual tagging for element of surprise <3

༺ pt. 2 (reo, barou, rin, sae, shidou)

— ISAGI ! on the back of his phone

Oh, he’s obsessed with this one polaroid you let him take, his cock slotted between your pretty tits. Your nails sparkled in the photo due to the flash, acrylics all shiny as you held your breasts together to keep him nice and snug

That night was one where he had earned himself a big win, the celebration you gave him was timeless. Your face was all sticky, smeared in pearly cum and runny spit, little bubbles all around the corner of your mouth

Clear case and all, everyone can get a good look at his favorite girl, see just how much of a cockslut she was with a fat dick between her tits and a pearly smile on her face

— BACHIRA ! shoebox

As deranged as Bachira is, he likes to keep you for his eyes only. That being said, the Nike shoebox that’s stored under his bed is full of filth, softcore porn, downright sin

Pictures of your leaking cunt just pumping cream all over the base of his thick cock, pictures of your fucked out face all flushed and dazed. Constant memories that he happens to keep ahold of for lonely nights

There’s enough to nearly fill up the big black box that once held his soccer cleats, so full that the lid can’t even fit on properly to do its job. It’s a tradition for him to snap a shot of you when he’s got you cockdrunk, after all

— CHIGIRI ! trendy altoids wallet box

Did we expect anything else from our artsy princess? He follows trends and those metal altoid mint boxes aren’t an exception, he carries it around with him at all times, decorated to perfection

He’s got tons of miscellaneous shit in there, ranging from a mini bottle of fragrance, a roll of tums, a fortune slip from the fortune cookies the two of you got at the local chinese restaurant in your area

Oh, but his favorite item is taped at the top of the box, sealed in place with a hello kitty sticker. A polaroid of you with his cock down your throat, taking it so deep that you can see the outline in your esophagus. He just so happens to be pressing a palm flat against, Chigiri was real proud of you that night

— KUNIGAMI ! scrapbook

A man of class, really. He’d hate to see all of those precious photos of his princess getting damaged or scratched, his best bet was getting a plain book to store each pola in their own plastic slots

They’re even organized, ranging from you sucking his cock, to your back turned to him as he’s plowing your guts from behind, to you on your knees with glossy nut covering every goddamn inch of your body

It’s his prized possession, stuffed in his bookshelf next to all of his old soccer books and manga. A good flip through is enough to make him chub up in his joggers

— NAGI ! playstation

That playstation was damn expensive, he’d be a fucking fool to not add a breathtaking picture of you bouncing on his dick like it’s your lifeline. It’s taped with washi tape, front and center for him to look at anytime he’s within reach of his console

You’re purely glowing in the photo, the sheen of sweat he got you worked up in making your skin glisten like a goddess. The flash managed to catch the details of his veined up arm as he wrapped a huge hand around your throat

He’s obsessed with the expression on your face too, brows furrowed and jaw slacked with a fat glob of spit dripping past your lips like a hungry dog. His girl was a whore for big dick, a fact that made him smirk lazily when it crossed his mind

[hypermascbishounen]

Well, probably because Greed's character arc led to that moment organically and closed in a natural way, that also lined up with fma's themes and story. So even when it was not necessarily expected or mandated and was tragic, it was still emotionally satisfying as a character conclusion.

Vs. While dying was always a possible conclusion to Tomura's arc, the way it was executed comes across as a cheap and anticlimactic shock death, bc it just unceremoniously cuts off not only Tomura's storyline - leaving a lot of emotional threads with Tenko, the Shimuras, and his side of the AFO plot, just kinda frayed - but also helps trash-can a lot of bnha's own themes. It doesn't work as a tragedy, because it throws the audience out of the story, with a sense their time was just wasted.

There's just too much build up around Tomura that suddenly feels like it goes nowhere in hindsight with this conclusion. And worse, it makes entire aspects of bnha in general feels like they never mattered. This isn't just a problem with Tomura when it comes to bnha's ending, but he's at the center of it - that the power of reaching out is repeatedly sold to the audience as worth it and necessary for a better future, and then literally is not the solution to the problems posed at all, the end, with no explanation for why the story would conclude on a really obvious and boring lesson.

Ofc we know that reaching out isn't always realistic and doesn't always work in real life. We live in the real world. That's not a profound or satisfying revelation, because the audience is not naive, and this ending despite seeming to be a mature, sobering, or "realistic", is actually the more infantalizing ending compared to everyone surviving imo. Bnha did not build up to a cathartic tragedy about the futility of trying your best, so it didn't earn this ending, and it falls pretty flat.

The truth is, despite the veneer of "reality" this very very literally is "and it was all just a dream!" as a conclusion, lol. We were enjoying a vision, and it ended in "no none of that was relevant actually the end". There's a reason It Was All A Dream is typically advised against, and it's not because it's "silly", it's because it makes the audience feel their time was wasted, bc the conclusion undoes most of the build up to it in most cases. That's why it's usually reserved for surrealism, or stories with consistent themes of time being wasted in itself.

Greed's death, meanwhile, is the theme of fma, and is immediately echoed in the following climax. The theme of fma is Truth, and the truth that Arakawa is selling to the audience is that human connection is the meaning of life. Greed breaks his code of never lying in order to give his life for Ling and everyone else, because Ling matters even more to him. He was searching for the feeling of human connection his whole life and when he finds it he realizes it's genuinely worth giving up his semi-immortal life to protect. He realizes he is not inherently selfish, and commits to an ultimate sacrifice, which is a strong character arc and conclusion for someone called Greed, even if it is tragic.

But more than that, the following series of events is on the same theme: Father's ultimate sin that sends him back to the hell from whence he came, was his eschewing of connection to others in favor of trying to elevate himself above everyone to control them, and avoid being vulnerable. Ed passes the final test of the gate of truth, by giving up his gate and ability to do alchemy, because he doesn't need the power when he has his friends. Hoenheim also gives his remaining life to the children he wanted to be there for, and wants to outlast him, because his love for them matters most. That is what full metal alchemist is about. That's why it has a strong and satisfying ending. All roads led to this, and it was the authors message to the audience. The truth is human connection.

By comparison, the equivalent of Greed's scene in bnha by narrative position is actually not Tomura's death. It's Bakugo's resurrection. That's the big emotional turning point set up that should lead into the rest of the final act. Bakugo being revived is narratively satisfying, because it's perfectly in line with the themes and his character arc. Bakugo goes all out against an opponent he knows could beat his ass and gets his heart exploded, but it's ok because other people reach out to help him and Bakugo no longer feels like needing saving is shameful like he used to. He integrates what he's learned from Midoriya, and the story actually set up this pay off. It would make no thematic sense to actually have Bakugo just die here.

And that should have been the prelude to an even stronger echoing of themes in the following series of events, the same way Greed's sacrifice does in fma. Unfortunately, that is not what happened. For whatever reason - probably a thoroughly misguided sense that audiences just want to be surprised more than they want a coherent narrative - Hori decided to swerve down an honestly tepid and thematically jarring ending. Things end not with a bang but a whimper, and instead of satisfaction, even cathartic tragic satisfaction, much of the audience will be left feeling vaguely dissapointed, like the point to them being there was missing. In conclusion, Hori left his story feeling like he had nothing to say to people with it, which is a shame because people were really invested in what he was already saying!

I'm super sick right now but I want to put this out there maybe somebody with more energy can take a crack at it

I love Fmab and I've been subconsciously comparing mha to it as the story goes on (afo and father, how well they execute their overalls themes,comparing Roy and Endeavor's atonement arcs, etc) and something that struck me is the similar aspects of the final battle (ie everyone coming to help defeat the big bad, the final punch, the protagonist giving up a power that meant so much to them) and something that struck me is how greed's death compares to Tomura's obviously they're different characters and have different roles in the narrative but both have their bodies possessed by the big bad, both actively help weaken the big bad to aid the protagonist and both die. But greed's death is so much more satisfying as an end to his character than Tomura's, it's so much more impactful.

Idk there's definitely something to expand upon there something to sink your teeth into but I'm too sick right now you guys get what I'm saying though right? Pls I really wanna talk about this with somebody 🥺

[yandere-romanticaa]

Low key building upon this post. Why? Because it was originally supposed to be more smutty but I'm a chicken who can't write smut, so I tried dipping my toes here. Nothing too extreme mind you, I'm still a big baby. Sue me. This was also written in a cafe in like, under 20 minutes so...

"I won't make you do anything you don't want to."

That mantra has been inside of your head for months now, ever since the bastard hunter took you. In some strange way, he did somewhat keep that promise and that made you feel so damn bitter. Kinich only really forced you to do the utmost basic necessities to keep you sane and alive - nothing more, nothing less.

He was still the same old Kinich you knew. Nothing was free of charge. The only reason why he still kept you around was because it made him feel good, or so he liked to remind you every so often.

That was precisely why the current predicament you were in was so damn bizarre.

Kinich panted beneath you, his eyes widened in shock as the faintest outline of blush dusted his cheeks, his shoulders quivering ever so slightly as you held him tightly on the bed. His arms found your hips and swiftly settled there, occasionally groping the soft skin whenever the opportunity arose.

Never in his wildest dreams could Kinich have predicted that you would ever greet him home like this.

Practically giving him no room to breathe, he was pounced on like a hunter does to its prey, giving him absolutely zero time to react. Your movements were desperate and clumsy but he did not care, not when everything felt so damn good. Kinich stared at you through half lidded eyes, his gaze seeping with exhaustion but want, so much so that he was inclined to gently nibble on your lower lip, which he gladly did.

A small noise escaped you, a silly mixture between a whimper and a cry but to Kinich's ears, it felt as though the gates of heaven had been opened.

Slipping his tongue in, he swiftly sealed your lips with his own, your own saliva and spit merging with his in some sort of flimsy but erotic dance. It was messy, he noted as he felt the spit gently trailing down his cheek, which he did not care about whatsoever. Your touch was hotter than the sun and it set his whole body ablaze with a lust which he had never felt before.

Was it normal for a person to want another this badly?

It most likely was not, Kinich reasoned. But that same reason was thrown out the fucking window once he felt your hips being pressed into his own, grinding ever so lightly against him. It was sudden but good, more than plain old good actually.

Kinich could hear your pants but chose not to pay attention to them. He was going to fight you on this for as long as he could, he was never going to stop kissing you if he could have his way.

Even so, Kinich himself felt his lungs burning for sweet air, but his heart was beating straight out of his chest and his mind was in tatters.

He cannot let you go. Not when you finally had given into him.

With his brute strength, Kinich broke free from your hold and roughly grabbed you by the waist, switching places that now you were the one who was pinned. He broke the kiss, finally, and slowly brought his arm up to his face, wiping away the spit off his lips. He stared down at you in a frenzy as he took the sight in - eyes screwed shut with a pained look on your face, heavy pants leaving your lips as you desperately tried to regain your composure but kept utterly failing each time.

It was so damn cute, he muttered wistfully.

Ever the opportunist, Kinich dove back down once more, his lips on yours again. One hand kept your arms pinned above your head while the other was lowered down towards your shirt, his skilled fingers ripping the fabric off. You yelped beneath him, not expecting the sudden force but that was alright too.

It simply added on to the cuteness.

Kinich felt himself growing harder by the second, his pants becoming more and more uncomfortable. He lost count with how many nights he had wasted away daydreaming about this exact moment - you, on his bed, stuffed full of his cock as his name was chanted like a sick love spell, over and over and over - let the whole valley hear, heck, let absolutely every human and beast hear who was making you feel so good. Your pleasure was officially in his hands now and there was no turning back now.

That was the initial idea, at least.

"HEY, HEY! What do you two freaks think you're doing?!"

Ajaw's shrill scream rang throughout the entire hut, its body now a mixture of bright orange and angry red, its tiny arms raised as high as they could be as it continued to complain.

"Kinich! I knew you were a freak but this crosses the line, even for YOU !" yelled the tiny dragon creature, its sharp gaze now stuck on you both.

"Sick perverts! How dare you subject the Mighty Dragon Lord to such an uncouth sight!"

Ajaw continued to complain over and over again as Kinich slowly distanced himself from you. He still lay there on top of you, albeit with his back fully straight now as his gaze became hollow. You could not tell if he was trying to tune out Ajaw or if he was listening intently but that question would be answered soon enough.

Still loudly complaining, Ajaw continued to prattle on and on, forcing Kinich to let out a very long and frustrated sigh. With a cool gaze Kinich raised his arm slightly in the air, his back still turned towards Ajaw as he made the "come here" motion with his finger. The tiny dragon obliged, thinking that his servant was going to give him a proper apology which he rightfully deserved - only to be met with the harshest smack across the head he had ever felt.

The impact was so loud that it echoed loudly across the entire room. Ajaw landed on the ground, dazed entirely and just stayed there, not making a sound. Still on top of you, Kinich lazily checked the ground to see where Ajaw had landed, and once he was satisfied with the findings, Kinich nodded to himself, his entire focus being shifted back towards you. With an outstretched arm, he placed a hand at the back of your head and gave your neck a soft but determined kiss. From the corner of your eye, you could see the faint outlines of the marks on his body beginning to glow but you did not know why, nor did you bother to ask.

Your body felt a little lighter as Kinich got up, the entire bed suddenly so much more free and cozy. Grabbing the hem of the blanket felt like the right thing to do, which you did. Kinich stood by the bed and watched you for a few seconds, his palm pressing your head down towards the pillow as he tucked you in.

"You did good tonight." he praised softly.

"I'll make sure to be a little nicer towards you. After all, how could I not be after tonight?" said Kinich with a snort, his lips forming into a smug smirk. You growled under your breath, frustrated to see your captor see so damn happy but you knew that in the long run, this was the best thing to do. A happy Kinich was a good Kinich.

It just made things easier. And that was the stone cold truth.

With a light pep in his step, Kinich walked towards the exit, grabbing his jacket along the way.

"I'll be out late tonight, commission. If Ajaw hadn't interrupted... I would have completely forgotten about it."

His tone was flat but cool, low key signaling that he was indeed telling the truth. Saying nothing, you covered your head with the fuzzy blanket and heard Kinich laugh under his breath one last time before leaving you to your own devices.

Times like these felt perfect for an escape attempt but experience had taught you well. No matter how far you went, Kinich would just track you down and bring you back by the ear if he had to.

He definitely had the monster like strength to do so.

With a huff you closed your eyes, blushing a little as you felt the pleasurable heat down your body, causing your legs to press themselves shut on instinct. The best thing to do now was to get some rest, nothing more, nothing less. The day had been long and draining, which only added to your sleepiness. In less than a few minutes darkness had taken over, your mind and body completely shut off from the rest of the world.

Meanwhile on the ground next to you, Ajaw quickly opened one eye and kept an ear out. Once he realized that you were fast asleep, only one thing could be said.

"Darn it."

[xazse]

we need more merman satosugu 🙇‍♀️‼️. HEAR ME OUT what if it was both of them who is the dominant one and they team up on reader

Warnings: Dom!SatoSugu + Merman!SatoSugu + fem!reader + creampie + pussy-eating + smut + notproofread + little bit of SatoxSugu + cumming untouched

Notes: this probably wasn’t as “Dommy” as I’d liked but I really hope you enjoy it regardless!!!

You’ve found out a new place where you, Satoru and Suguru can relax, you all sit upon the shore with their tails still submerged in the water along with your legs. It’s nice to see them enjoying the sun and preening at the attention you give them.

You get to see them even closer, you get to see their tails halfway out of the water and just how much they shimmer and glitter when the sun bounces off them. Such pretty blue and purple hues being expressed. You also get to see their slits where their sensitive areas are closed, it makes you think about how long it had been since the last time you had sex with the both of them. It was damn near magical how good you felt that day and they probably do share the same feelings.

Suguru is stealing glances at you and Satoru, it’s cute. He seems to want you but is too shy to ask out rightly. Satoru is quite frankly fed up with the tense atmosphere (he’s the only one thinking it’s tense) he can feel his body slowly growing more and more hot by the second. Your attire isn’t helping either: deciding to go with a tank top that squeezes your chest and short shorts that make the outline of your cunt more prominent.

He’s the one that moves first, grabbing your cheeks and giving you soft kisses at first that as you accept him turn into more deeper kisses. When you try to take control of the kiss he’s quick to ruin it. He signals to Suguru to start removing your clothes and he listens obediently. Starting with your tops and then moving on to your shorts, he attacks your underwear next and hurriedly throws the damn things to the side.

Satoru trades places with Suguru to let him kiss you, Suguru isn’t soft at the start he immediately starts sucking on your thick tongue. While he’s keeping you busy Satoru begins fingering his slit, trying to coax his cock out of its sheath, after a few deep pumps his thick cock is fully hard and ready to be buried in you. He didn’t get to feel you wrapped around him like last time so he made an agreement with Suguru to let him fuck you first, he’ll try his damn hardest to last as long as possible.

Trying not to break up you and Suguru’s kiss, Satoru slowly moves your body to sit upon his tail where his cock lies, he takes his dick in his hand and slightly places it against your cunt, measuring the size. Your pussy is small compared to him, he truly does wonder if the water really helped Suguru slide in easily considering his size as well.

He teases his cock with your pussy, nudging the fat thing against your clit, you moan everytime he nudges up, slowly but surely he’s getting you wetter, combined with Suguru not letting you pull away for even a moment the whole thing has your head spinning. Satoru is leaking precum from his tip, his cock looks angry and ready to cum but he knows he shouldn’t.

Suguru grabs you by your waist and lifts you up so you’re hovering over Satoru’s reddened tip, he gently brings you down.

“Fuc..k..” you mutter quietly, as soon as he feels your pussy his mind is going blank, just having you submerge his tip feels so fucking good, this is what suguru was bragging about and he completely understands as you sink inch by inch.

Satoru replaces Suguru’s hands with his own on your waist, you do look like you need a moment but Satoru is just too needy, he begins bouncing you on his cock, your cum and his cum mixing creating a slippery mess, and even more nasty noises. With the little space provided Suguru dips his head inbetween and starts licking Satoru’s slit, he uses his fingers to pry it open and scissors his tongue in and out.

“Oh god- Suguru-“ he chokes out, he tries to keep his eyes from falling closed but finds it difficult, he wants to keep staring at your face contort into different phases of pleasure.

Satoru starts to get a little bit aggressive with his thrusting, he leans your body back a bit and starts hitting your spot directly on the mark, he’s a little startled when you let out a strangled moan. You must feel as good as he’s feeling, your walls are so damn tight and spongey against his cock. His thrusts get even more intense when Suguru starts fingering his slit hard.

“Pleas- does it feel good for you?” Satoru practically begs you to answer him in a whiny tone, you nod that’s all you can do. Your silent answer pushes him over, he slams you one final time down on his cock and his slimy cum is filling you so deeply, it doesn’t even occur to you that he had came inside of you, you don’t care, not when suguru leans over to suck on your bud. You cum right after Satoru, your cum soaking his cock.

You’re all panting wildly as you process what just happened and how good you all felt, you look to Suguru to see if maybe you can ride him as well but looking to his cock he’s made a mess completely untouched.

[pearlymel]

Sweet dreams—Zayne

summery : In which you need Zayne's help to tire you out so you can finally sleep.

Wc : 1.4k

Warning(s) : NSFW, Fem!reader, fingering, use of "good girl", finger sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, uhh lmk if i missed anything.

You don’t often ask Zayne for help, but he adored it when you did. He liked being needed, liked providing for you, always giving you anything you wanted. He’d never say it openly, though.

And tonight was one of those days, where both were of you were getting ready to sleep, Zayne facing his side of the bed and you embracing him from behind comfortably.

An hour passed. You look up at the clock on the wall, its already past midnight when you still couldn’t seem to get your eyes to close for the night. And who could you blame? Probably the sugar or drinks you had today that only seemed to make you hyper, and your handsome husband who you rarely get to see on nights like these. 

And you’re thankful, really. Finally being able to sleep in the same bed after hours of overtime from his demanding job. But that still doesn’t help with the fact that you missed him everyday when he leaves for work, oh how you ached for him to the point every simple thing he does turns you on. Like opening a jar you probably couldn’t open on your own, or sometimes watching him work out inside your shared space, his muscles flexing underneath that tight compression shirt, eyes fixated on the outline of the bulge peeking out from his grey—

You snapped back to reality when Zayne cleared his throat out loud, your body stiffening. Did he listen to what you were fantasizing about just a second ago?

“Why are you still not asleep? I can feel your fingertips playing with my hair…” you can hear the soft mumbling escaping his mouth. Your eyes follow his hand as he moves it to the back of his neck, his fingers nervously rubbing the area. You slowly pull your own hands back, still feeling the gentle tingle from the brief contact. A hint of redness creeps onto his earlobes, spreading across his skin like a subtle shade of embarrassment despite his back still facing you, but he quickly recovers from it.

“I can’t sleep. Plus I don’t feel tired from the amount of sugar I consumed this morning.” And you can only half blame him for it, since the candy jar he kept on the shelves were too tempting not to munch on.

“Sugar? You don’t happen to talk about the candy ja—“

“Ohh, i think its starting to hurt right here.” You swiftly cut him off, pretending to be in pain as you clutched on your stomach dramatically. And he can only sigh while watching your little act, even so, a small smile curled on one side of his lips. He's hopelessly smitten by your cute display.

"You're so dramatic," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. But despite his words, his hands reached for your wrists to lift them off your stomach, then slotting his hands on your stomach instead, gently massaging at first out of concern whether it was hurting or not.

“Here?” He whispered, fingers poking on your sides playfully which made you laugh, followed by a giggle. “That tickles, Dr Zayne!” And you continue squirming and laughing before he stopped with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Well, that still won’t help me fall asleep. In fact that just gave me more energy!” You smiled brightly in the slightly dim dark room. He only hums thoughtfully in return.

“If you want to sleep, we need to tire you out.” He leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead, and you only raise one eyebrow. When you tried to lift yourself off the bed, he only caged you gently in his arms while gently pushing you back on the bed. “I promise I won’t go too far,” and you feel like you instantly get the hint when his hand slides down to meet your bare thigh.

You silently thank yourself for only wearing an oversized shirt and panties tonight.

Zayne’s fingertips finally found itself way to your panties, his thumb slowly rubbing on your clit in circular motions through the thin fabric which made you gasp softly.

“Zayne—“

“Relax.” He whispered, soft lips finding yours into an open messy kiss, drinking in every mewl and whine that escaped from your lips. “Lie down, and spread your legs for me, darling.” He instructed in a low, husky tone. And you did as told, his arms pulling away from your back before letting yourself get comfortable on the mattress.

His breath hitched when you easily spread your legs open for him, his hands wasting not time to pull your underwear down to your ankles before slowly sinking in his middle finger into your wet, tight cunt. Your little hole fluttering around his finger when he started stroking your insides lightly, the back of your hand covering your mouth, struggling to not moan every time he would push knuckles deep inside you.

“Let me hear you,” he encouraged, gently brushing your hand away with his other hand before sinking in another finger in. Two fingers curling right into your sweet spot which immediately made you shamelessly moan out loud, hips arching off the bed as you clenched tightly around his fingers before coming undone. Though he continued thrusting his digits in and out, not fast, but steady.

“Good girl, now tell me what you want me to do next.” He roughly whispered, his own breathings growing heavier.

“I want…” you panted, mind still hazy while you tried to recover from your orgasm before he pulled out of you. “Open.” He ordered with dark eyes, your lips parting for him to take his digits in your mouth, your tongue lapping and sucking your juices clean off his fingers, a whine eliciting from your throat at the taste of yourself.

He then released his fingers from your mouth, leaning in to softly kiss at your temples. “I want more,” you mumble, eyes looking up innocently at him, which made him shake his head while chuckling. so you’re still not tired.

“More? That’s not enough information.” He said gruffly, and suddenly his pants were off, which made you blink twice for what’s to come. He exhales out shakily as he gives himself a few languid strokes before lining himself between your folds while leaning down to bury his face in your neck.

“You want me to fuck you roughly or gently? Do you want me to tie you up? Blindfold you? Or maybe, something else?” He whispered while pressing featherlight kisses along the curve of your neck. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and enjoyed it. If you were uncomfortable, he wouldn’t proceed. But he knew you liked being dominated sometimes. He could see it in your eyes, the way your pupils dilated and your breathing becoming ragged.

“… Roughly, please.” You uttered, almost to yourself as you wrapped your arms around him. He smirked against your neck so you wouldn’t be able to see him, he was pleased with your decision.

Zayne parted your thighs wider apart using his rough hands as he lined himself up with your tight entrance that clenched around nothing eagerly. “Relax, darling.” He murmured with reassurance next to your ear as he pushed himself into you to the hilt without warning, causing you to yelp in surprise. He moved at a leisurely pace, making sure you adjusted to his size, he then paused, waiting for your body to adjust to his girth.

He then began fucking you harder, pounding into you with long, deep thrusts. His movements were sharp, and deliberate. His hands gripping onto your thighs tightly, further pushing them down which made you cry out in pleasure. 

He took the pleasure at the sight of you, back arched, your nails digging and scratching into his back while hearing your moans of pleasure.

“That’s it, take it.” He grunted, one of his hands sliding down to slap your ass lightly, “take my cock, sweetheart—ah, fuck.” He panted, the rhythm increased, he was soon pounding into you relentlessly, feeling you clench impossibly tight around him, drawing you closer to your next climax.

“Hah… ah, Z-zayne,” you whimpered, tears prickling your precious eyes to which he tried kissing them away. “‘M gonna cum—“ 

“Cum for me, sweets.” He whispered softly, his lips pressing one last time on your shoulder before feeling your muscles clench around him. “My good girl.”

Your orgasm hit like a freight train, your muscles milking his cock intensely. Zayne groaned, following closely behind, spilling into you and painting your walls white in slow, sloppy thrusts.

Finally, he pulled out of you after a moment of catching both of your breaths, he collapsed beside you, panting heavily. “Surely you're tired by now?” And you giggle tiredly in return, eyes closing lazily and turning to him to give his lips a peck.

“I love you,” you whisper, and he takes your wrist, his thumb stroking slow circles inside your wrists. “I love you too, now go to sleep, love. I’ll clean you up.”

[hyomaslut]

──★ ˙🍑 ̟ !! casual conversation between friends? 18+!

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴀsᴋɪɴɢ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ғᴏʀ ɴᴜᴅᴇs ᴘᴛ. 𝟸

✿ ─ characters: kaiser michael, ness alexis, aiku oliver, nagi seishiro ✿ ─ cw: smau!, extremely suggestive/borderline smut, aged-up!characters, college!AU, gn!reader, no pronouns, unestablished relationships/mutual pining, use of foul language, descriptions of genitalia, suggestive themes, slight implied cheating, oliver is so obnoxious im sorry, proofread? ✿ ─ notes: if you see this and you requested someone else, worry not. i'm far too much of a people pleaser to leave you hanging, there will be part three! if you're looking, part 1 can be found here!

KAISER MICHAEL...

you don’t know if its just curiosity driving you or some feelings towards kaiser you’d rather not confront, but impulsively you ask him for a picture. you don’t have much time to reflect on how wrong it is to be asking someone for nudes while in a relationship because before you know it you’re staring at his fit body and shit eating smirk that you hate that you like. its honestly near professional level quality too. a selfie of him laid out on his bed, basking in the afternoon sun peeking through his window. you let out a breath as you finally will yourself to let your eyes travel down and you finally notice the sheet he has draped around his hips. leave it to michael kaiser to persuade you to ask him for nudes only to tease you. still you could see a clear outline of his cock through it and you really wish he was lying about his size. you swallow harshly and you thank god he couldn’t see the crimson that has taken over your face.

NESS ALEXIS...

he sends it to you relatively quickly considering it’s alexis and you had half expected him to spend 20 minutes taking it only to chicken out and not send it. your surprise doesn’t end there, however, as the entire vibe of the image was far from what you were used to with ness. he’s sitting up against his headboard, joggers haphazardly shoved to his knees. he was holding his phone down near his thighs, giving you the perfect view, you didn’t know where to let your eyes land. the tips of his fingers gently pressed his cock against his abdomen, trying not to bite your lip over the fact that it was long enough to reach his belly button. ness must not skip core day at training, you think as you mentally trace every indent of his abs. the thing throwing you off was his face. he had the bottom of his shirt clenched between his teeth to hold it up to give you a better view and you don’t miss the intense look swirling in his eyes. it made your breath hitch in your throat. he had never seemed so focused, so serious. it’s as if his stare was piercing through the screen of your phone. the flush on his face made him look convincingly desperate, stirring arousal in your stomach to your embarrassment.

AIKU OLIVER...

you unfortunately can’t disagree with him. the last few times you hung out with oliver there has been a heavy tension that you’ve been fighting to ignore. it’s what drives you to reply a noncommittal maybe, which is much better than a no, and good enough for oliver. less than a minute later you get a picture, and you can’t help but think that he probably had taken it before you had even agreed. it’s in the mirror in his bedroom, the only lighting is the soft glow of his lamp. he stands facing the side, holding his dick which was at least twice the size of his hand and veiny. to your surprise, he’s well shaved, and as your gaze wanders up his body you scold the part of yourself that wants to drool over his abs and arms. you always knew he was toned, saw him play soccer a few times, but had never how truly sculpted he was. you knew you were doomed the moment you locked eyes on his stupid smile. dangerously charming, kind of like the man himself, one you could see yourself getting fooled by over and over again if you stared at it long enough.

NAGI SEISHIRO...

it takes him barely a few minutes. nagi’s picture is lazy. he was sat back in his desk chair, he just pulls up his hoodie a bit and slides his sweats down his thighs. it’s lit only by the glow of his computer, his cock is basically the only thing in frame… except the plastic water bottle he places next to it for a size comparison. honestly he shouldn’t get away with sending such a low effort nude, but it’s easy to get away with anything when your cock is as big as his. you couldn’t even do the mental math required to figure it out, but one thing was for sure, bigger than a poland springs water bottle. and it simply isn’t fair to be that long and wide at the same time. it almost makes you angry. of course naturally attractive, naturally talented nagi seishiro had a huge dick. you’re unsure if nagi knows how groundbreaking this information is and is choosing not to brag out of modesty or if he doesn’t realize he is the biggest you’ve ever seen.

🇧‌🇴‌🇳‌🇺‌🇸‌❗❗❗ (reo's perspective)

i hate tumblr please just upload my fucking screenshots like a good girl next time. okay now that all the rage is out, what do you guys think!!! part 3 will come out soon and will include: shidou, bachira, sae, kunigami, + mystery bonus?? not sure yet

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